Bone Lake, 2025
Directed by Mercedes Bryce Morgan.
Starring Maddie Hasson, Alex Roe, Marco Pigossi, Andra Nechita, Eliane Reis, and Clayton Spencer.
SYNOPSIS:
A couple’s vacation at a secluded estate is upended when they’re forced to share the mansion with a mysterious couple. A dream getaway spirals into a nightmarish maze of sex, lies, and manipulation, triggering a battle for survival.
In director Mercedes Bryce Morgan’s Bone Lake, community college teacher Diego (Marco Pigossi) remarks that although he is an aspiring novelist who wants to write about relatable personal issues, he is worried he will become a walking cliché. His girlfriend, Sage (Maddie Hasson), who has taken on the brunt of financial responsibility during these times and is prepared to start a job in publication editing, encourages him to pursue whatever he finds fulfilling.
It’s also tough to tell if that line about becoming a cliché was intentional or not on behalf of screenwriter Joshua Friedlander, since Diego spirals into a different type of cliché the longer their seemingly happy relationship is tested by the malicious, manipulative couple Will (Alex Roe) and Andra Nechita’s Cin (with a C because, apparently, using an S would be to blunt for a movie that already has no subtlety), present at the double-booked airB&B.
There is some surface-level intrigue in that this isn’t necessarily a film about adultery, but rather the drama that arises from a lack of trust and not having answers to questions that it might be better off not knowing, even when it could destroy a relationship dynamic, and the urge to know is burning. When the shoe finally drops, that the entire story is a test of Sage and Diego’s love (which is undergoing ups and downs with bouts of insecurity and fragility from the latter), there is a demented joy in not only the grotesque violence but also seeing if the couple can resist the obvious temptation of manipulation.
The problem with Bone Lake is that it’s not exactly as secretive as it thinks it is about what the narrative is doing. It’s also not a movie anywhere near as sleazy as it thinks it is or is trying to be, mainly reserving that for a trashy big twist that is either superfluous or poses bizarre juxtapositions between these couples. If anything, the prologue sets up a film much dirtier and disturbing before settling into transparent psychological torment that is, more than anything, tedious to sit through until the situation comes to a head and explodes with sex and violence (both literally and the song).
This is a film that makes an offhand joke about one character hoping they don’t become a cliché, in a narrative that is, eventually, consumed by tropes. Everything from the mind games Will and Cin deploy to the male fragility on display (Will is also concerned that Cin might be cheating on him, to the point of copying how Diego treats his partner and other gestures he has planned) comes across as stale, with the endgame overtly telegraphed. Furthermore, if this is meant to be a comedy of errors and politeness, it’s not necessarily funny, either.
Bone Lake is desperately aiming for something Speak No Evil (the original, not the already forgotten Hollywood remake) has and misses the mark because it isn’t nasty, darkly humorous, sleazy, or shocking enough. That would have been forgivable if it at least had some depth, believable characters, and psychological thrills; instead, it has some gleefully gory climactic chaos and a couple of truly memorable kills (in the opening and ending). By that point, though, one already wants to leave, especially given the absurd twist.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder